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Love Lost pt. 2

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Well, part 1 was very well accepted and part 2 has been made, people! I have a feeling Love Lost will be as great, if not better than my TQFM series. You begged me for seconds and you got 'em! Come on, fans. Welcome to the second part of Jurassic Park...I mean, Love Lost!


Harry frantically reached for the flashlight that was laying peacefully on the floor of the car, his arm quivering. "Ch..Cheryl's missing. I've gotta find Cheryl." His thoughts were full of his daughter. He didn't care about the fact that he was injured from the car crash, or that he was out in the blistering cold. He had to find Cheryl, and that was that. He flicked the flashlight on.

Waving it around, the only sight that met Harry's eyes was snow, constant snow and hail plowing down into the ground. "Sweetie? Cheryl?!" He called out, his voice flying away from him but nobody answering. He started to walk away from the scene of the crash to find his troubled daughter. The cold was starting to get to him, but they didn't jog the thoughts of his little sweetheart at all. He was more determined to find his daughter than some guy named James was to jump down a hole while screaming at a higher pitch than a singer named Justin Bieber.

There was a massive fence blocking his way toward the rest of the town. He had no clue how Cheryl could've possibly made it past there, but he decided to jump over it anyways. "A-one. A-two. A..." Harry tightened his legs and gave a stiff lunge, as if in slow motion. He soared to the top of the wall, extending his arm and preparing to grab hold of the ledge. His teeth grinded against each other as he prepared to reach his target. He was going to make it..."OOF!" He landed face-first against the fence and splatted into the snow. Epic, Harry, epic, he thought to himself.

"Alright. One more time..." Harry had begun talking to himself, as he was never used to being alone and he needed someone to speak to. "You've got this." His legs squatted downward, his energy being stored. Though he was hurt from smacking flat-out into the wall on his first attempt, this time he made it, his arm slinging onto the ledge as he forced himself over to the other side of the fence.

Harry exhaled softly and relieved as his feet planted firmly back into the snow on the other side of the fence. That was a pretty epic pose. He dusted himself off and stood, waving his flashlight at all of the new buildings that were shown before him. All of their entrances were on the other side of them and blocked, except one particular building that had the exit proudly unlocked. "Hmm... looks like Cheryl musta ran in there."

He ran over to the door, the handle ice cold but mobile as he turned it slowly and ran inside. His quaking body slowly came to a stop as the hallway was surprisingly warmer than the harsh weather outside it. "Man...this place is nice and warm." He sighed and relaxed for a moment, as if he were getting a rather pleasant massage. He imagined sitting down by a fire with Cheryl, while listening to Christmas music sung by some guy named Brad with an adorable accent. Yeah, Brad might have some epic cheekbones, too. Wait...he was completely forgetting about Cheryl! Cheryl was missing!

"Oh God, I've got to find her!" Harry couldn't help but cry out his thoughts as he started nervously down the hallway, his flashlight shifting side to side. "Hmm...Cheryl!" He called as loud as he could. Once again, nobody responded to his pleas for his daughter.

Henry searched the girl's restroom. Nobody was in there, but there was some lovely graffiti. He read multiple messages. "I hate school", "I hate you", "Brad's got a cute accent and sugarplum cheekbones that bounce with his chin when he sings"...Harry stopped reading cause the responses to that one were way too creepy.

Cheryl obviously wasn't in here. She was only seven, but even the dumbest of seven-year-olds would be creeped out by bouncy cheekbones. He fled the girl's restroom in a flash, moving on to the men's. Normally, Cheryl wouldn't have gone into there, but think about it-she probably had her mind boggled by the fact that she was in a car crash. Maybe she was confused.


"This is rather intriguing, Cheryl," Kaufmann stated with obvious fascination, his eyes beaming. "You obviously had a wonderful childhood in your elementary ages. You had a great father-daughter bond, didn't you?"

Cheryl nodded while biting her lip, nervous about what she would have to say next. She hadn't told him about Harry's death, only the fun she was having while he was alive. Some part of her wanted to believe he wasn't gone.

"Alright, then. Tell me about your mother, Cheryl. You haven't told me much about her. What was..." He paused, a wide smirk creasing his face. "...Dahlia like?"


Harry had searched the entire men's restroom for his tiny child to find nothing but filthy mirrors, urinals and toilets, and beer cans scattered along the ground. He also found magazines lazily plopped on the tile floor, ladies gladly posing, covering in beautiful make-up and dresses that would make Dahlia jealous. He didn't bother looking at the beers for too long, the only time he'd gone drinking he ended up home not knowing who he was. As for the magazines, he was only slightly more tempted to examine but he turned away because his daughter mattered more than pretty supermodels to him.

Leaving the room, he ran through the hallway, flashlight constantly flickering around for any signs of a little girl. He opened up another door with slight hesitation as he saw another hallway. Was all this building just a couple of restrooms and hallways? Lame design, construction people. Lame design.

The exit door was locked, a small latch holding a tab that was hooked to a chain. He fiddled with the tab and yanked it out, the chain clinging in a little metallic chime as it clanked against the door. This had fascinated him for some reason. He started smacking at it gently. "Pretty! Swingy, swingy, swingy..." He flung the chain around and watched it sling back and forth. "Left, right, left, right, oh God this is fun!" Cheryl popped up in his mind and he swore at himself for forgetting his mission. He opened the door and exited back into the raging blizzard.

Though he was back in the wretched freezing cold, he still needed to find his daughter. As his plan had worked, he had managed to find a way out into the streets, where he could enter all of the other buildings. He ran into what appeared to be a dollar store.

Beer cans lined the shelves, all sorts of "appetizing" brands. Oh please, Harry thought to himself, that Bud Light crap made me throw up. He quickly ignored them and moved on to the other products.

Laundry cleaning products. He remembered when Dahlia had forced him to do the laundry "for once in his friggin life" and he ended up soaking the carpet with bleach. His wife almost killed him that day. That brought back such lovely memories that he chuckled a little and moved on.

There were a few bottles of hot sauce lined up on the shelves, but those didn't bring back memories at all, not to him. They might've bugged someone else, though. He took a bottle just in case he needed to randomly squirt it down someone's throat.

Otherwise, this place was completely useless. Harry left the shop in an agitated mood; his daughter could be anywhere! He needed something to eat, so he could get this crap off of his mind for a little while. Diner 52, he read on a glowing sign. "Eh...why the hell not..."


"Man, why aren't waitresses or hot waiters in here serving me up some grub?" Mandy hissed, impatiently tapping her obviously fake fingernails on the marble table. Jean resisted the urge to slap her on the back of the head. Cybil was waiting across the diner from them, sitting in a lush couch and rubbing her head.

"Mandy, you moron...why would anybody be working here in these conditions?!" Jean snapped while looking over her shoulder at Cybil. "...But then, why would the power and lights be on...eh, that's how the game developers wanted it, they got it." Everyone suddenly forgot about Jean's statement while a rather troubled looking man entered.

"Oh, thank God! Police officers!" He ran over to the one with the poofed hair, her nametag reading a broad "Mandy".

"Hey...what're you doing?!" Mandy screeched while the man forced her head back and pulled out the hot sauce with an evil grin. He pried her mouth open and squirted the fiery liquid right into her mouth. She screamed for him to stop, but he continued until he had squeezed the bottle dry. "GAAAAH! BLAAAAH-" Gargling was heard as she forcefully swallowed the flameful substance down. "Huff...harf...WHY?!"

Jean liked this guy already. "Any torturer of Mandy's a friend of mine. Who are ya?"

The man looked over and sighed. "H-Harry Mason. My daughter, Cheryl...she's gone missing! I just got into a car crash! I need help and-"

"Relax, sir," Cybil interrupted him harshly, gesturing for him to take a seat. "Please calm down. Just tell me what went wrong."

"I told you what went wrong!" Harry almost yelled, exasperated. "Me and my daughter got into an accident!"

"Identification, please." Cybil sternly commanded. Harry gladly followed her orders; there was no way he was resisting a cop. He handed her his entire wallet, just to prove he was on her side.

"Hmm...is this her?" She flicked out a picture of Cheryl with two fingers. Harry nodded. She examined his I.D. "Yeah, you're Harry Mason alright." She examined it a little more, then she examined him. "Are you alright, sir? You look a little...funny."

"I'm fine." He replied in an irritated overtone.

"Where do you live?"

"Uh..." Suddenly, Harry was stuck. God, why was he forgetting this?

"Oh, says here you live at 1206 Levin..." Cybil looked down at it and seemed slightly confused...why did he live there?

"Oh yeah! Right! I live there." Harry responded quickly, unable to hide his eagerness.

Cybil rubbed her head with agitation. This was strange...he couldn't live there. "Well, you should probably head home then, sir. I'll aware you if I find your child." She examined Cheryl's photo one last time before sliding it into Harry's wallet and returning it to him. Harry nodded and left the diner.

Mandy finally recovered from the horrid flavor of the hot sauce and her uncontrollable choking. "...Bleh...so, what now?"

"I really don't understand why his I.D. says he lives there," Cybil stated blankly, flipping her hair. "But even so, we're gonna have to find out sometime, I suppose..."

"Could be a false I.D." Jean theorized.

"Maybe he's a spy," Mandy coughed out. Jean worried she'd stayed up too late watching James Bond films.

Cybil stood up and beckoned her comrades out the door. "Well, let's go, ladies. We're going to get to the bottom of this."


Part 2 is completed, but the saga has just begun! What will happen next? Part 3?

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